Page 4 of The Gentleman

They’d crossed paths once during a security clearance review. Eldridge had been thorough but forgettable in the way bureaucrats often were, but she was not the kind of woman who made midnight house calls.

Two agents flanked her.

SIS Internal Oversight Division.

Internal affairs by any other name.

A hard rock formed in her stomach. This was worse than bad.

Eldridge flashed her identification as if they were strangers. “Agent Landon. Victoria Eldridge, Internal Oversight.” Her gaze dipped to Kat’s feet. “Fully dressed at 3:00 a.m. Expecting company?”

Kat didn’t budge. She kept the door half-shut. “It’s the middle of the night.” Kat glanced up and down the street—no surveillance van, no idling cars. Just three spooks on her doorstep at an ungodly hour.

“Time’s never inconvenient in our line of work, is it?” Eldridge’s smile was wafer thin.

The agents flanking her stood rigid—career spooks. The man’s suit strained across shoulders built on creatine and bench-press reps. His female partner had pale, rain-diluted eyes that studied Kat with undisguised interest.

“Internal Oversight always knock after bedtime, or am I just special?”

Eldridge’s head dipped. “We are here about…irregularities.”

Irregularities?Kat’s heart stuttered, but she kept her expression blank.

Eldridge grimaced. “Landon, we can do this here or inside. But wearedoing this.”

Not a request.

Kat stepped back and opened the door wide. “Fine. This way.”

She led them to the kitchen, hyperaware of their footsteps behind her. The cat’s empty bowl caught her eye. The cat had vanished—smarter than she was, apparently.

Eldridge slid into a chair without waiting to be invited. The fluorescent light flattened the colors of her face. “A glass of water, if you don’t mind.”

Of course I don’t.Kat kept the sarcasm behind her teeth. “Sure.”

She turned the tap on too far and splashed her shirt.Damn.She patted at it with a kitchen towel, then set the glass in front of Eldridge.

Eldridge’s companions hadn’t moved except to position themselves—one at the kitchen entrance, the other by the back door. Sentry positions to prevent an escape.

Kat’s skin prickled. Her kitchen had never felt smaller.

Eldridge fumbled in her jacket pocket. Small white pills scattered into her palm—three of them, which she swallowed in one quick motion.

“Damn indigestion,” Eldridge said, catching Kat’s stare. Her hand trembled as she set the glass down and for a moment, she looked older than her years, the light catching every line around her eyes.

Then she straightened, her professional mask sliding back into place. “This is Agent Pierce.” She gestured toward the muscled man. “And this is Agent Gra?—”

“I don’t need a roll call. I need answers.” Kat folded her arms, her gun cold against her spine. “You mentioned irregularities?”

Eldridge produced a folded document. She pushed it toward Kat with her fingertips. “Search warrant.”

Kat scanned the official seals. Genuine—and signed off by Judge Hunter.

Her stomach dropped—this wasn’t routine harassment. “What are you looking for?”

“Let’s not waste time with theatrics.” Eldridge nodded to her agents.

Kat stepped sideways, blocking Pierce’s path. “You show up at 3:00 a.m. with a warrant you won’t explain. I have the right to observe the search.”

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